Irises
by Dark Lupina
Summary: [Milo x Camus, Yaoi] The pain of losing someone must lead us to extreme attitudes...


**Disclaimer:** The current text its a fan fiction based on the japanese animated series Saint Seiya, made only for entertainment, with no personal gains. The series, as all his characters are property of Masami Kurumada.

**o.O.o**

He was holding white irises. Since the first funeral he ever saw in his life, this were the flowers that he considered made for the dead. Pure, beauty, white. He gone wishing that its white color, the color of the peace, would leave tranquility to his soul. Because his soul was unquiet.

With eyes fixed on the bouquet in his hands, low stare of sadness, he walked the whole way to the cemetery. Anyone who has memories about him, in passed days, the boy with imponent looking and wide smile, should not recognize him now. He even felt happy, for not meeting anybody important during the traject.

In the first days, the closest ones visited him, bringing cheer and affection, as a try for not leaving him drown in a sea of despair. Would be lying if he said he wasn't better, nowadays, but anyone still could see the pain inside him, painted on his face, on his eyes that doesn't had the same bright that it had before **his** gone…

They were still trying to take him out of his deep and depressive loneliness. Whenever he could, he goes to the cemetery, for meeting him again. Many times, interrupting his way, they try to retard him, denying his gone, because the unique company of the death couldn't be healthy for his sanity. But who Said that he was still interested in the living ones? The live of the only person he ever cares, was ended, and all he wants was staying by your side.

Stepping on the ground where hundreds of Saints were lying, or was this the belief, he remembered the time when he tries to meet him, in the easier – or hardest, depending from the point of view – way. He got drunk, far away from his limit, consuming with the beverage, the pills for insomnia, another close friend after his death. And goes out, driving for nowhere, a foot stucked into the accelerator.

The only remembrance was the strong hit, his body being pushed away from the car, and after this, awake in the hospital, passed almost a month in comma. He doesn't win that time, and find no strength to try again.

He conformed in looking to the skies and wait, spending his days by his side, even if in his last earthly home…

The dirty of the cemetery was wet, with the recently rain, and was with a sweet smell. The sunset behind the trees was making the dry autumn leaves fly in the soft breeze, until meeting the middle-light. Still holding the low stare, he completes the last miles of his walk. Doesn't need to look for know where he was going, as long he was there too many times.

Only raised his eyes from the irises when saw himself on his final destination, burning his knees so, in the humid grass in front of the simple tablet. Putted the flowers close to the cold stone, and runned the fingers through the letters in low relief, letters that informed who was the man he loves:

Aquarius Camus.

There wasn't even a picture there, to show the beautiful face of his french, young and handsome forever, only his Saint name, cutted on the raw stone. But it doesn't really cares.

Inside your mind, even torpifyed for his absence, his face would be there forever, with the smiles that only he saw, the green eyes who only had warm for him. In your memories, Camus would be alive forever, immortal while the life still breaths in your body, and this gave him the necessary strength for, when going to bed in his House, would lay the head on the pillow, in the hope of meeting him again, in his dreams, and, waking up in the morning after, keep the fire of his life still burning inside.

Crossing hands on the chest he remembered, with pain and nostalgia, the last days they passed together.

A movie on TV, sweet popcorn and pepper kisses. They made love on the sofa and slept on the furry carpet of the TV room, their naked bodies warming one in the hit of another. He remembered of waking uncomfortable in the middle of the night, without his close presence. Picked his clothes around and gone for him, to find him in the office, arms and head laying over the desk, in a thinking and worried way.

-Camyu... – he said, complaining, freeing a yawn after. – What are you doing here, I though you were in bed.

Walked for him, but his green eyes doesn't move from the nothing he was looking. The french gived a low sigh of satisfaction when the arms of his lover hugged him, one of his hands softly pulling the read hair out, for selling a short kiss against the whiteness of his neck.

-Cant sleep more... – said Camus, with tired voice.

-Come on, lets go to the bed... – asked, gently trying to pull him from the chair.

But Camus turned his body on the seat, putting himself in front of him. The hands of the aquarian pressed his hands, eyes fixed on his eyes, immensely distrustful, as he saw only a few times.

-Milo... – and the name of the greek was told as a pray.

-Camus, what is going on? – Milo asked, worried and confused.

-We may receive intruders in the Sanctuary, and I... – and covered his eyes with a hand. – I know I am not used for this things, but I have a bad feeling.

-But who should dare to invade the Sanctuary, Camus? – Milo wanted to know, unbeliever.

Camus looked ashamed.

-Five Bronze Saints. And a brat who told herself Athena.

Milo laugh, laugh, laugh and laugh, all in front of the eyes of Camus, who get a little bit angry, but doesn't lose the distrust. The handsome blonde braked his knees in front of your boyfriend, his hands of tanned skin touching his face by the sides, bringing him slowly to join their lips.

-What are five Bronze rats against nine Gold Saints, Camus? What of so bad they could do?!

-I don't know... – He seemed lost. – But Milo...

Milo settled his eyes on the sad face of his love. Camus kept on talking:

-There is a Cygnus Saint with him... Hyoga Alexei...

-The kid you have teached on Siberia, don't? – his hands were rubbing the lap of the french.

-Yeah... – He doesn't look at him. – If for irony of the destiny, Milo, he gets in a battle with you, could I ask you a favor?

-I would do anything for you, mon amour... – Said Milo, smiling, kissing one of his hands.

-I don't want you to kill him.

-But Camus...!

The aquarian raised a hand, ordering him to shut up.

-You said "anything", don't you? And this is all that I ever asked you, Milo! – and laid the hands on his wide shoulders, his eyes almost imploring. – If he has to die, let me take care of this. Please...

The Scorpion Saint took a deep breath, swallowing the proud, even the call of the duties. He was an Athena server, but his love was most important, even than this.

**o.O.o**

He doesn't killed Hyoga, giving allow for the brat in person to kill Camus. Should kill him now alleviate his pain? No, it would not bring Camus back, this he was still good enough to know.

Hated Hyoga, but hated Camus first. Stupid french! Why should he had feelings about that boy? He doesn't promised that all his heart would be forever, only yours? He demanded it several times, and was incapable to take away his affection from him!

There was a lot of irises. The ones of yesterday, the ones before yesterday, the ones of the last week... Wasn't Hyoga there for him, guarding his eternal rest. He came in the funeral day, bringing in the blue eyes the same cold expression that Camus ever showed.

Aldebaran had to hold him, for not going against Cygnus, and finished this time what he had beginned. The same way he had to hold him when the shovels start to cover the coffin with dust, torning him apart from his body forever.

Ah, that body! All the nights of crazy lust, all the moments of cheer... He had the memories, the only missing was his body to hold tight...

Removed piece by piece of the young foliage who was growing over his tomb. The nails burying in the humid soil, with urgency to take it out, for looking at his face again, sure that he wasn't untouched.

Doesn't cared about a broken nail, with the small rock pieces hurting the fingers. All he wants was holding him in his arms again, even if one time more.

**o.O.o**

He fought when taked out of the cemetery, in a mad cry and cloudy mind. It was only one of the Sanctuary guards, but when he finally calm down, he hugged the man and cried, as he doesn't cried since the burial day. Patiently, the man took him back to the Twelve Houses, where leaved him with Mu, all solicitude as always.

Milo sawed himself gently forced to take a shower, go to bed and have a tea. Doesn't asked what it has on, but the hot drink made him slept as fast as any synthetic drug, making him lose the conscious softly and comfortably.

In the morning after, before opening his eyes, he heard people talking in the next room. Mu, Aldebaran, Aiolia... He gets took by surprise. And somebody was walking on his room.

Moved slowly between sheets and pillows, opened the eyes to stare at the roof, and later, turned the head, sawing Shaka kneeled by his side, the juzu rolled in his hands, face concentrated, as praying.

The Man Closest to God, there, praying for him. For him??

Turned again the face for the Virgo Saint, feeling the good smell of his incenses floating on the bedroom. There was a point of smile on his lips.

-Good to see you awake... – Shaka said low, without moving from the position he was. – Feeling better?

Milo had a long sigh, thinking in an answer, eyes lost, here and there. He felt free in being ashamed, in front of the closed eyes of Shaka, even knowing that the virginian could see much more than his body talk, behind his eyelids.

-I don't know, Shaka... – murmured, his body still weak under effect of the tea. – Now it hurts less. Less than yesterday.

-Everybody is worried about you. – Shaka said, seriously. – For Buda, what passed in your head for doing a thing like that, Milo?

His face turned to red. So, was fact, everybody already knows. Everybody already knows that he taked the coffin out and braked the wood, only for touching him once? Fall asleep by your side? Felt his face burning, the need to cry growing on his heart.

-You have the one that you love by your side, Shaka... You will never understand, until you lose him.

He saw his chest turning wider in his imponence, saw his mouth preparing for a scold. But then, the door opened, and Aiolia came "to save him".

-Milo... – he said with a worry expression, offering his arms to him.

The scorpian gived a point of sad smile, when he felt the strong arms pressing him gently. Aiolia rubbed his hair, allowing Milo to approach. He losted his older brother in a tragic way too, the eternal human empathy knocking on his soul stronger than ever, in front of that situation.

-I do imagine how you feel... – the leonine said, close to his ear. – Whatever I can do for you, just say it. I will be by your side.

Milo laughed, kind a hysteric laugh, accompanied of the first tears he tried to swallow, but couldn't.

-We are all by your side, Milo. – said Shaka, in the most friendly tone he had, laying a hand on his shoulder. – We survived together to everything that passed, there will always exist losses... More than battle side by side, we got to help each other.

Scorpio wiped the tears from his face, and gived a little smile to Shaka, and he gived it back, contained, but gived.

The door opened again, and all of them turned the attention for it. Mu and Aldebaran entered, the brazillian looking at Milo as a father worried, what made his tortured heart fulfill with affection for him.

Mu was looking peaceful, but behind his sweet green cat-eyes, could be sawed that he was suffering too. He has a letter in his hands, what leaved to Milo.

-Its for you, from Japan. – Said the lemurian, in low voice.

A white envelope, sealed, from the Graad Foundation. What should it mean? Milo opened the envelope, slowly, but full of interest, and inside it, he founds a index leaf, capriciously folded, where a beauty calligraphy said:

_I feel for the thing I have did the same way I imagine you feel the loss of Master Camus. He doesn't talk too much about his life in Greece, but from the little things he used to say, was always about you he talked more. I know about the tie you had._

_You know better than me how much he was self-controlled on his emotions, and he teached me the same control, for don't be defeated by any enemy, betrayed for my feelings._

_But this self-control harmed me a lot in my life..._

_I took his life, and this will always haunt me. He contained me for not being killed by anyone else, but seems to be our destiny, dueling one with another. I try to get some comfort with the idea that may he wished it, unless he doesn't could defeat me in the Libra House, maybe for teaching me his last lesson as my Master._

_But I don't know if this is true, and I pray each night for his forgiveness, as I pray for yours._

_Was for Athena, for our Goddess that I did it. But far beyond of being a Saint, I am human, like you, and I cant contain the pain who tortures me._

_I didn't even cry on his funeral, I know. I saw your anger, heard your tears, and feelled your sadness as I could touched it. Believe me, inside I was like you, desperated too, feeling his gone like somebody pulling out with violence a important thing in my life._

_I loved my Master, so much as you, I guarantee. Was a tie growed in a different way, in close distance, but equally strong. I understood when I saw you, that day. He teached me all I know, was the father that I never had. And I did what I did to him, in the name of a reason higher than feelings. I guess you understand._

_I wont implore your forgive, just want you to know: I accompany you in your pain._

_Sincerely, Hyoga Alexei._

Huge tears start falling from the face of Milo, each word he reads. In the end of the letter, his chest was convulsively moving with the cry. He kneaded the letter in his closed fist and hugged Aiolia as his life was depending of it, hiding the eyes on his neck.

He cannot hate that boy. He tooked the love of his life, but whatever, the boy loved him too, was suffering worst, maybe. He was very strong hearted for writing that letter. Just as Camus...

Milo heard words of comfort coming from each one in the room, he heard his voices, but doesn't saw them. In his mind he only saw the irises rolling in the strong wind, over the snow. They were stained of blood.

The living ones care now, he start to see. But the only one who really cares was dead...

It would be hard, but he must to try. He will take the irises from the ground, and let time take his time to heal his broken heart, for maybe, Camus and him would stay in peace, even torned apart.

**o.O.o**

_Kyaaaa!! The second one its here! _

_It takes more of my time than I really have to, but its finally here, my second translation!_

_Like I have said before, I hope you enjoy as long you ignore my mistakes, the mistakes of a brazillian girl who learned English all by herself, and uses Google Translator as help in the words and sentences she doesn't know very well…_

_IM STILL LOOKIN FOR A BETAAAAAA!!! _

_All my fan fictions are previously beta-readed in Portuguese, language where they are originally writed and publicated. But I-NEED-AN-ENGLISH-SPEAKER-BETA!! Not having one gives me the creeps, I must look like Tarzan writing… Ç-Ç_

_If somebody wants to help me, the MSN address is: darklupina(at)hotmail(dot)com._

_Bye!_

**_Dark Lupina_**


End file.
